بخش 19

Shams

BAGHDAD, SEPTEMBER 30, 1243

Battling the winds, my horse and I sped away at the crack of dawn. Only once did I stop to look back. The dervish lodge resembled a bird’s nest hidden among mulberry trees and shrubs. For a while Baba Zaman’s weary face kept flickering across my mind. I knew he was concerned about me. But I saw no real reason for that. I had embarked on an inner journey of Love. How could any harm come out of that? It was my tenth rule: East, west, south, or north makes little difference. No matter what your destination, just be sure to make every journey a journey within. If you travel within, you’ll travel the whole wide world and beyond.

Though I anticipated hardships ahead, that didn’t worry me much. Whatever fate awaited me in Konya, I welcomed it. As a Sufi, I had been trained to accept the thorn with the rose, the difficulties with the beauties of life. Hence followed another rule: The midwife knows that when there is no pain, the way for the baby cannot be opened and the mother cannot give birth. Likewise, for a new Self to be born, hardship is necessary.

Just as clay needs to go through intense heat to become strong, Love can only be perfected in pain.

The night before I left the dervish lodge, I opened all the windows in my room to let the sounds and the smells of the darkness waft in. By the flickering light of a candle, I cut my long hair. Thick clusters of it fell to the floor. I then shaved my beard and mustache and got rid of my eyebrows. When done, I inspected the face in the mirror, now brighter and younger. Without any hair my face was cleared of a name, age, or gender. It had no past or future, sealed forever in this moment.

“Your journey is already changing you,” said the master when I went to his room to say good-bye. “And it hasn’t even started yet.”

“Yes, I realized,” I said softly. “It is another one of the forty rules: The quest for Love changes us. There is no seeker among those who search for Love who has not matured on the way. The moment you start looking for Love, you start to change within and without.” With a slight smile, Baba Zaman took out a velvet box and handed it to me. Inside, I found three things: a silver mirror, a silk handkerchief, and a glass flask of ointment.

“These items will help you on your journey. Use them when need be. If you ever lose self-esteem, the mirror will show your inner beauty. In case your reputation is stained, the handkerchief will remind you of how pure your heart is. As for the balm, it will heal your wounds, both inside and outside.” I caressed each object, closed the box, and thanked Baba Zaman. Then there was nothing else to say.

As the birds chirped and tiny dewdrops hung from the branches with the first light of the morning, I mounted my horse. I set off toward Konya, not knowing what to expect but trusting the destiny that the Almighty had prepared for me.